


Five Times Stiles Wasn't Okay and the One Time He Was

by monkeyihihji



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: But they definitely try, Mental Breakdown, Post-Nogitsune Stiles Stilinski, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Stiles Stilinski Needs a Hug, The Pack doesn't know how to help Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:34:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24767047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monkeyihihji/pseuds/monkeyihihji
Summary: Various moments where the Pack realizes that maybe Stiles isn't as okay as they had hoped after the Nogitsune and the one time he is okay.
Relationships: Danny Mahealani & Stiles Stilinski, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski, Sheriff Stilinski & Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski & Kira Yukimura
Comments: 1
Kudos: 115





	Five Times Stiles Wasn't Okay and the One Time He Was

  1. Lydia Martin



It was at Allison’s funeral when Lydia finally noticed. It had been two weeks since Allison’s death and since they defeated the Nogitsune. Two weeks since the entire Pack fell apart and started slowly putting themselves back together again. She was foolish enough to hope that maybe things could go back to a vague sense of what normal used to be. Scott would go back to being a lovesick puppy. Stiles would go back to being a smartass. And she could return to being the clever one. She liked to pride herself on being the smartest in the room; she liked the feeling of being able to talk circles around anyone around her. That was her downfall; she was always so focused on being the smart one that sometimes she wasn't observant of the people around her. In this case, she failed to notice the behavior of Stiles Stilinski earlier than today. 

She knew that the funeral was going to be a rough day for everyone. Scott had lost his first love. Mr. Argent lost his daughter. Lydia lost her best friend. Allison had meant so much to everyone and while most of them had already been grieving for two weeks, the funeral gave everything a sense of finality. Mrs. McCall had been kind enough to let everyone over before the actual services started for coffee and a small breakfast in case anyone was hungry. It was the immediate small group; Scott, herself, Isaac, Kira, Mrs. McCall, Mr. Argent, the Sheriff, and Stiles. 

It had been the first time in two weeks that Lydia had seen Stiles and, due to everyone else’s reactions, it must have been the first time they saw him too. He looked awful. His brown hair wasn’t in his usual gelled style and it fell in limp strands along his forehead. His clothes looked baggier than normal and Lydia took in a sharp breath when she realized how much weight he appeared to have lost. The worst part, besides the loss in weight, were the bags under his eyes. He looked like he hadn’t a good sleep in months; he looked possibly even more tired than he was when he was dealing with the possession. 

Instead of chattering like a storm--which she had expected--he was standing off the side while the rest of the group was gathered in the kitchen. His face was pulled into an unreadable mask and he was staring down at his shoes with his arms crossed. The stillness of his body set her on edge and for a guilty second, Lydia found herself wary of him. The last time she had seen him so still, he was the Nogitsune . It was silly, really, to feel scared just because Stiles wasn’t talking or moving but it was just so  _ unStiles-like _ that she had to forcibly remind herself that the Nogitsune was gone. She had seen him crack and fall into dust right before her very eyes. As if he could hear her thinking about him, Stiles looked up and matched her stare. She took back her previous thought of the bags under his eyes being the worst part of his appearance; she could safely say, without a doubt, that his eyes themselves were the worst. The usual bright and warm amber colored eyes were now dark and absolutely drowning in pain. While his face showed no emotion, his eyes gave away to the complete sorrow he was feeling and Lydia had no idea how to help. 

He held her gaze for only a few seconds before he removed himself from the wall he was leaning on, “Bathroom.” He mumbled hoarsely before he exited the room.

Lydia decided that he wanted privacy and she let him go as she focused back on the group. It wasn’t until ten minutes later, when they were getting ready to leave, that she noticed that Stiles still hadn’t returned. She excused herself politely and headed for the bathroom, hoping he might still be in there. She paused as she turned the hallway and saw that the door was still closed and there was light escaping from an inch where the door didn’t reach the carpet. She neared it slowly as she heard a muffled voice.

“You didn’t kill her. It wasn’t you. You can do this.” Stiles’ voice sounded so broken and tired, “You have to. For  _ Allison.”  _

Lydia frowned as she now stood in front of the door. Did Stiles really blame himself for Allison’s death? It wasn’t his fault in the slightest, it was all the stupid asshole Nogitsune’s fault. She lifted her hand to knock on the door lightly, “Stiles? We’re getting ready to go.” She said it in her softest voice, hoping it would be soothing. 

“Oh. Okay. I’ll be there in a minute.” His voice sounded louder now and it was obvious that he was trying to hide how tired he sounded just moments ago but she didn’t push it.

The door opened a few seconds later and Stiles blinked slowly at her, almost like he wasn’t expecting her to be waiting. She smiled softly, trying not to look at how red his tearstained eyes were. God, she wanted to hug him but he looked like if she did, he would have a breakdown right here and now. Instead, she held out her hand and waited as he took it slowly, as if he was scared he was going to break her. She intertwined their fingers and they began walking down the hallway, back towards the Pack. 

  
  


  1. Noah Stilinski 



To say Noah was worried about his son was the understatement of the century. He was always worried about his son, and now that he knew what kind of people Stiles surrounded himself with, he found himself worrying even more. Werewolves, kanimas, and kitsunes? What was next? Unicorns being real? He paused and then made a note to ask if they were, in fact, real. Despite what Stiles or Scott believed, he didn’t have a problem with the supernatural; he had a problem with their  _ safety _ dealing with the supernatural. When he had learned that Stiles was possessed, he was at first extremely angry and then terrified for him. There was even a moment where Noah had even guiltily hoped that it was dementia because  _ that _ he could handle, not some however old fox spirit possessing the only family he had left. 

Luckily, the kids had defeated the Nogitsune and Stiles was back to his human self, which the Sheriff was thankful for. However, even though Stiles was back, he wasn’t exactly the same. There was a stint where Stiles refused to leave his room, Noah would check on him occasionally and bring him food during this time which Stiles barely even touched. The only time his kid got up was to use the restroom or to shower. Noah had taken a vacation from the station during this time just so he could be around Stiles just in case. 

Thankfully, the phase ended around a week ago with Allison’s funeral and its place was a ball of manic energy. Stiles had decided that everything needed to be cleaned. One morning, Noah had left for work with Stiles clearing out old string and pictures from his room and he came home to Stiles on his hands and knees cleaning the kitchen tile. And the  _ talking _ . The silence that had haunted the Stilinski household was now eradicated with Stiles voice rambling in the background. Noah isn’t even for sure what his kid is saying half the time, he’s just thankful that Stiles is doing something other than locking himself in his room.

It only becomes a problem when he realizes that Stiles’ is deep cleaning the house every single day. Hell, he’s pretty sure that the house had never been this clean, even when he and Claudia bought it so many years ago. He’s not even sure Stiles is sleeping; Noah woke up the other night to get a glass of water and he heard Stiles in the bathroom scrubbing away and mumbling under his breath. 

“Son.” Noah sighed as he leaned against the bathroom doorway, “You thinking about going to bed anytime soon?” 

Stiles' head spun around, startled at the sudden appearance of his dad, “Hey, pops! Yeah, don’t worry. Bed. Soon. I’mma just finish cleaning the tub and then I’ll take a break.” 

Now, Noah had dealt with PTSD from his time in service, but he had no idea how to handle PTSD from being possessed. “Stiles, it’s probably the cleanest tub in all of California.” 

“Shouldn’t I aim for the cleanest tub in all of North America?” Stiles asked but he stood up from where he was kneeling over the tub. 

“No, because then you wouldn’t stop until it was the cleanest in the whole Western Hemisphere.” The Sheriff crossed his arms, letting Stiles know he wasn’t leaving until the younger left. 

“But why stop there? The Eastern Hemisphere exists too.” Stiles laughed harshly as he started scrubbing his hands in the sink to get the cleaner off. 

Noah gave him a look. “Stiles.” 

“Alright, alright. I hear you.” His kid sighed and continued scrubbing. 

He waited a few moments and frowned as Stiles continued scrubbing his hands rougher than usual, “Alright, kiddo, now your hands are giving the tub a run for its money.” Stiles acted like he hadn’t heard him. “Stiles. That’s enough.” Noah frowned and reached to pull Stiles’ hands away from the water, “Jesus!” He pulled back his hand the moment he touched the scalding water, “Are you trying to burn your hands off!?” He moved Stiles away and turned off the water. 

Noah’s shouting seemed to rouse Stiles from his thoughts and he looked at his dad, blinking slowly, “Sorry… I didn’t notice.” He turned and stared at his bright red hands.

Noah’s worry spiked for his son even more, “It’s okay, son. Why not try sleeping some?” He wrapped his arms around the younger Stilinski and led him out of the bathroom and towards his bedroom. 

  1. Kira Yukimura



It had been a few weeks since Stiles came back to school and Kira was happy about it. Sure, she hadn’t known Stiles as long as everyone else, but she enjoyed hanging out with him. It was nice to have someone around to make jokes despite whatever hell was surrounding them. It wasn’t the same as before, but things were getting back to a strange sense of normal. Scott would occasionally make the remark that Stiles was quieter than he used to be or that a comment that was said had more malice than before. She wondered if that’s why Stiles liked hanging out with Malia so much; the werecoyote only knew nothing about how he acted before. Kira didn’t know pre-Nogitsune Stiles that well though, so she didn’t mind the fact that the human was slightly angrier or quieter; he was still Stiles. Sure, there were moments where he looked sadder than she expected him to, but she took it all with a grain of salt. She couldn’t imagine being possessed. 

It was supposed to be just a short visit to her house after school before they went to Scott’s for a pack study night. She needed to grab her history book and her car had gotten a flat this morning and was in the shop, so Stiles had offered to take her after school. Honestly, she was excited because she hadn’t spent much alone time with just him and her and she always wanted to see what he was like just one-on-one. It was awkward at first when she had gotten in the car and asked if he remembered where she lived. He had tensed--probably remembering the last time he was there--but nodded and it wasn’t until she had brought up the subject of Batman vs. Superman did he finally loosen up a little bit. 

“You can come in if you want, it might take a minute.” She offered when he pulled into her driveway, because that’s what friends do, right? She was still new at having so many and she didn’t want to mess anything up.

Stiles looked at her house hesitantly before he turned the jeep off, “Sure.” 

“Great!” She hopped out of the car and led him inside the house, “You can just wait in the living room. I swear, I’ll try being fast.”

Kira saw him nod and head in the direction of the living room before she rushed to her room. She knew she had been studying with her book just the night before but other than that, she wasn’t for sure where to look for it. She looked under her desk, on her dresser, and a few other places before finding it wedged between her bed and the wall. She grinned to herself as she shoved it in her backpack and, before leaving, she shoved a random collection of highlighters she had sitting on her desk into her bag as well. She had remembered Malia saying something about highlighting helps her study and you could never have too many highlighters in Kira’s opinion. 

She shouldered her backpack and left the room to go get Stiles, “Okay, got everything! I’m ready to...” She found him standing in front of the living room coffee table staring at the half-played game of Go her and her mother had started last night before she went to bed. Her mom was currently winning as she surrounded all of Kira’s white tiles in black. But! That was okay, because Kira was definitely improving her game strategy and had slowly started making a comeback before nearly falling asleep. In retrospect, she should have put it away before inviting Stiles inside. “Stiles. Are you alright?” 

There was a far away look in Stiles eyes and Kira couldn’t even begin to imagine what he was seeing. Scott had told her that he had seen the human playing Go with the demon in his mind, but she had a hard time picturing it. She wished she could’ve seen it for herself and gotten close enough to see the strategies. But seeing Stiles look at the board now made her waver on her wish; he looked at it with so much disgust that she took a step back instinctively. She had seen that same look on his face when he was possessed. He slowly moved his hand towards the board and shakily picked up a white piece before placing it on the board. Kira leaned forward to see the move and realized that he had captured one of her mother’s pieces; she hadn’t even been aware she could’ve made that move. 

“Stiles?” She tried again as she rested a hand on his shoulder. 

This seemed to snap him out of whatever daze he was in and he blinked once at the board and then jerked backwards, away from her touch. “I’m sorry--I didn’t--” His eyes seemed to glisten and Kira realized that he was trying not to cry. 

She understood the signs of the panic attack and moved without thinking. She knew it wasn’t a good idea to touch him without permission, especially during such a panicked state, but she couldn’t help it. When was the last time he even had a proper hug? She stepped closer and after making sure he didn’t flinch away, she wrapped her arms around his waist. 

He was thinner than she expected and it made her squeeze him even tighter. She held her breath for a moment and then she felt his arms slowly slide around her shoulders. His body wasn’t trembling but her head rested against his chest and she could hear his wild heartbeat. They stood that way for a few minutes as she eventually started hearing his heart calm down. 

He pulled away from her and took a step back while looking anywhere but at her, “Ready?” 

“Stiles, are you okay?” 

“I’m fine.” He twirled his keys and headed for the door. Kira didn’t have to hear his heartbeat to know he was lying.

  
  


  1. Danny Mahealani



Danny firmly believed that sometimes the people who saw you the best were the people you knew the least. He knew Stilinski well enough, they had been going to school with each other since elementary school but he didn’t  _ know  _ the guy; not how McCall knew him or even Lydia Martin. It wasn’t like Danny had anything wrong with Stilinski, they just had never taken that large step from acquaintances to friends. It was probably a good thing anyway; Stilinski always seemed to be involved in whatever problems the werewolf population of Beacon Hills was dealing with. 

Lately though, Stiles seemed a little off--if he was being honest, the whole McCall-Stilinski friend group seemed a little off but he didn’t want to know too much in fear of getting wrapped up in their shenanigans. And if he was still being honest, he low-key blamed whatever happened for the reason why Ethan had left. Although, that didn’t stop him from worrying about his fellow class and teammate. The poor guy seemed jumpier than normal and irritable. He also seemed less animated? That was probably the weirdest thing--it was like Stilinski’s calling card. 

Econ was terrible without Stilinski’s stupid comments that would piss Coach off and the rest of the class was suffering from actually leaning. So, Danny decided to do something about it. Today, he sat in front of the seat that Stilinski usually sat in and waited for him to walk into class a few seconds before the bell rang. Originally, he was going to turn around and ask if Stilinski found him attractive, just as a little joke, but then he figured that Stilinski liked to solve things, right? Why not make him solve something. 

Danny waited until Coach started talking about the price and demand lesson for the day and then he turned around to face Stilinski, “Hey.” 

Stilinski’s nose scrunched in confusion and Danny did take a moment to appreciate that he wasn’t too bad looking. “What’s up, Dannyboy?”

And just like that, Danny was reminded why he never pursued the smartass known as Stiles Stilinski and he rolled his eyes. “I need you to solve something for me.” 

“Okaaaay?”

“I am the beginning of the end, the end of every place. I am the beginning of eternity, the end of time and space. What am I?” 

The color drained from Stilinski’s face and his eyes immediately widened and he looked scared. No, scratch that. He looked absolutely terrified. That was weird though because Danny could’ve sworn that the guy was just talking about solving riddles a few months ago. “I-I gotta go.” Stilinski clutched his bag in a knuckle white grip and left the room in a rush.

“Stilinski!” Coach called after him, “Where the hell is he going?” He looked over to Danny and then to McCall, “McCall! Go after him, make sure he’s alright.”

Danny watched both of his classmates go and he sunk in his seat, feeling guilty. He hadn’t meant to cause Stilinski to leave, he just wanted to try cheering up. He looked down at his notebook and tried focusing on his lesson--McCall would be a better help than he was at the moment. 

  
  


  1. Scott McCall



Scott already knew that Stiles wasn’t alright as he was standing up to run after Stiles before Coach told him to. He had been listening to Danny talk to him and he had winced the moment he had started the riddle. It wasn’t Danny’s fault though, he didn’t know, and from the chemosignals, the guy felt pretty bad about it too. Scott ran out of the classroom and followed Stiles’ scent to the bathroom. It all felt oddly familiar as he opened the door and saw his best friend breathing heavily on the bathroom floor. The Nogitsune had been gone for months, but in it’s wake were constant reminders of him. 

It made it hard sometimes to look at Stiles and not be reminded of the demon. Honestly, Scott had avoided him for a few weeks after the whole ordeal. It was hard for him to look at him without seeing the Nogitsune. Even now, Stiles would make a face or a comment and Scott wouldn’t recognize the person in front of him. He didn’t even smell the same anymore. Usually, Stiles smelled like fresh apples and cinnamon--but now the cinnamon scent seemed to mix with something similar to licorice and it seemed to constantly threaten to overwhelm the other scents.

“Hey, dude. You okay?” Scott knelt beside him and clasped his shoulder.

Stiles pulled away from him, “Can you not?”

Scott frowned and pulled his hand back, “Not what?”

Stiles shot him a look and he had a hard time not looking away from the anger in the human’s gaze. It reminded Scott too much of the night where the Nogitsune shoved the sword in his stomach and twisted. “The constant checking on me.” 

“I’m not constantly checking on you.” 

Stiles tilted his head and this time and Scott had to look away, “Oh? So the constant sniffing around me isn’t you checking my chemosignals? Or the constant touches aren’t checking that I’m not in pain?”

“Stiles,” He shifted from crouching to sitting on the floor.

There was a harsh choking sound that Scott realized was Stiles laughing. “That’s what I thought. Have to check on the broken human, right? Make sure he’s not going to do any harm?” 

Scott shook his head, “No. That’s not what I’m doing at all.” He forced his voice to stay calm. He hated the way Stiles sounded right now; all the anger in his voice made him sound darker. The anise scent seemed to get stronger and Scott tried not to focus too much on it. “I’m just… making sure you’re still  _ you _ .”

He wasn’t monitoring Stiles’ emotions or if he was in pain; he was monitoring if Stiles was still  _ Stiles _ . He refused to be tricked again and if it meant that he had to constantly double check, he was okay with that. He wanted his best friend to stay his best friend. And who could blame him? Ever since the Nogitsune, Stiles wasn’t his old self and Scott wanted to fix that. He missed how Stiles used to be. How the human was constantly cracking jokes with a carefree smile. He had failed to protect Stiles the first time and he was going to make sure it would never happen again.

The anger wafting from Stiles declined significantly and the licorice smell faded away to cinnamon. He pulled his knees towards him and buried his face in his hands. Scott moved so he was sitting by the human’s side and their arms barely brushed against each other’s. 

“And what if I’m not even sure if I’m me?” Stiles' small voice came muffled from his hands.

“Well, I guess we’ll just stay here until you feel more like yourself.” 

  
  


+1. Stiles Stilinski 

It wasn’t fair. It had been  _ months _ since the Nogitsune and everything that had happened and yet Stiles was still haunted by it. There were nights that he wasn’t able to sleep because everytime he closed his eyes, he saw himself hurting another loved one. There were moments where we couldn’t even look at Scott as he remembered all the horrible things he did to him. No matter what he tried, he couldn’t shake what he did and how he felt when he was possessed. Everyone had seemed to move on and here he was not able to get over it. They had even all tried to help him in their own special way: Lydia led him by his hand. His dad tried joking around with him. Kira hugged him. Scott sat with him. Hell, even Danny tried helping by joking around with him! And yet, the only thing they managed to do was make him feel worse. 

Maybe that was why he decided to come out and visit the Nemeton. He hadn’t really planned it, he was supposed to be headed home from school but instead he drove on autopilot. He didn’t even realize where he was headed until he was nearly at Preserve and by then it was too late to back down. The only plan Stiles had was to get to the stump, but now that he was here, he realized that that was as far as he had thought of. He stared at the massive broken tree. It looked far less intimidating in real life and he hated the fact that he still felt terrified by it. 

Stiles held a middle finger to the tree, “Fuck you.” He said with as much venom as he could muster. And then he said it again while raising his other finger. And again. And again. Hell, he even shouted it. “Great.” He dropped his hands, “You’re really losing it, Stiles. You’re talking to a tree.”

Just as he feared, the stump did nothing. It just stretched out before him, basking in the sunlight that managed to break through the surrounding trees’ leaves. Stiles felt like it was mocking him. 

“And no one else seems bothered by you, do you know that!? No one else has even mentioned you.” He crossed his arms. “I can’t even sleep because of you. I keep having nightmares where I’m standing in front of you.”  _ Just like this, _ he thought. He took in a deep breath and counted his fingers. No. No, he was awake. This was real.

“But it’s not you I’m really scared of, is it? It’s what you imprisoned. That’s what screwed everything up.  _ The Nogitsune _ .” He spat the name. Even when saying it, he felt a shiver run up his spine and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Here he was, still scared of something that didn’t even hold power over him anymore. He reached up and rubbed the scar behind his ear. There were moments where he could still feel the anger that swept through him when he was possessed and Stiles hated it. He hated the fact that he could still feel it’s emotions as his own. He hated that sometimes he had the same urges--albeit to a lesser extent--of needing pain, chaos, and strife. The Nogitsune was gone, he was sure of it, but some days he still felt it’s presence. He didn’t dare let anyone know that sometimes he felt more like the Nogitsune than Stiles; he already knew how everyone looked at him when they thought he couldn’t see them, he didn’t want to add to that.

“I miss it.” He barely whispered, scared to even admit it himself. It’s what terrified him the most about the whole situation. “I miss feeling that much power. That much control.” It was like a weight in his chest that he wasn’t even aware of vanished. “Everyone was scared of me and I  _ liked _ it. For once it wasn’t about Scott. It was about me.” For once in his life, he was the one front and center. Now he was only receiving attention because everyone was worried about him. He missed it when all their attention was turned on to ways of defeating him.

“They keep telling me to eat.  _ Eat more, Stiles, it might help you feel better _ . How can I when everything I eat tastes like ash?” He remembered how it felt when twisting the katana in Scott. How sweet the pain tasted when he took it. “I keep getting these withdrawals where all I want is to feed off of pain, chaos, and strife. I remember how they all tasted… how they made me feel. Why the hell would I want anything else when I’ve experienced something like that!

“And don’t get me started on feeling! Everything is so numb now, like, like things used to be so vibrant and now even the brightest colors seem muted!” He was shouting now and he could feel tears beginning to form, but he couldn’t stop. “And I keep telling myself it’s fine, like I’m completely okay with not feeling things! I think, maybe if I pretend to feel things then I’ll get by, but it just is making things worse! I should feel guilty that my dad wakes up to check up on me every hour, but I don’t! I should feel guilty that Lydia can barely look at me, but it doesn’t bother! Nothing bothers me! It just feels… it feels void!” 

His shouts echoed around the Preserve and silence followed--not even a bird call could be heard. Stiles stood there panting with tears streaming down his cheeks and with clenched fists, he kicked the Nemeton hard. Pain coursed through his foot and up his leg and he relished in it. He was thankful that for a brief second he could feel something that he was sure was human. His heart thundered in his ears and he looked up, realizing that now the sun was nearly gone. Shit. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and winced when he saw the time and multiple missed calls from his dad. He looked back at the stump and for the first time in months, he felt lighter. 

The phone in his hand began vibrating and Stiles looked down at it before answering. “Hey, Dad.” 

“Stiles, thank God! Do you know how many times I’ve tried calling you!?” His dad’s voice sounded through the speaker and Stiles couldn’t help but smile fondly. “Do you even know what time it is?” 

“Yeah.” He answered hoarsely, yelling apparently screwed up your vocal cords. Huh. Who knew? “Don’t worry, I’m headed home.” 

“Are you okay?”

Stiles paused before answering and stared at the tree stump before him. It suddenly looked a lot smaller than it had moments ago and a small flicker of hope ignited in his chest. He turned his back against the Nemeton and started walking away from it and the surrounding nightmares. “Yeah, dad. I'm okay.” And for the first time in months, he actually believed he would be. 


End file.
